From Russia with Terror
by KESwriter
Summary: One day, Reid meets the love of his life in a coffee shop. Seven years later, he is found nearly frozen to death in Siberia. Now he is must depend on two Russian intelligence officers to help him discover who his wife really is and find his daughter.
1. Chapter 1

I need to do something predictable. Yes, Reid gets hurt but he is never helpless in my stories. I hope you like it.

One day, Reid meets the love of his life in a coffee shop. Seven years later, he is found nearly frozen to death in Siberia. Now he is must depend on two Russian intelligence officers to help him discover who his wife really is and find his daughter.

From Russia with Terror

Chapter One

Reid sipped his coffee as he read a new medical text by his favorite author. The coffee shop was crowded, but he didn't mind. The background noise distracted him from his stray thoughts about his upcoming meeting with AD Linda Barnes.

"Excuse me," a female voice said.

He looked up into the eyes of a pretty brunette.

"Is this seat taken?" she asked, indicating the empty seat opposite him.

"No," he said.

"Thanks," she said and put her stuff on the table.

After returning to his book for a few minutes, he looked up and saw what she was reading.

"I love that book," he said.

"I do too!" she gushed. "I am only in two chapters in and I can't put it down."

"You'll love chapter four then where Hugo," he stopped himself. "I nearly spoiled it for you. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," she said. "I do that to my friends when I'm excited about a book I read too."

"I'll let you back to it then," he said.

"No, I don't mind," she said. "I didn't think many people liked to read this stuff."

"It's an underappreciated genre," he said.

"I know!" she said. "What else have you read?"

They continued to talk as the coffee shop began to empty out. Eventually they exchanged names. Her name was Julia and she was a guidance counselor at a private high school. She didn't raise an eyebrow when he said he was FBI.

Reid checked his watch.

"I need to go," he said. "I made plans to see a movie with a friend."

"That's fine," she said. "Can I get your number, so we can talk books and other things?"

He blushed slightly. "Sure," he said and wrote it down on the back of his business card.

She pulled out an old receipt and wrote her down.

"See you around Spencer," she said.

Reid left the coffee shop happier than he had been in a long time.

…

The meeting with Barnes was intense. It made him question his future in every way imaginable. He couldn't make eye contact with his team the whole day. The sense of doubt plagued him.

Since books didn't appeal to him, he decided to call up Julia.

"Hey!" she said delightedly. "I was hoping you'd call sooner rather than later."

"I need to get my mind off work," he said. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know," she said. "Did you know that there is still a large population that believes the earth is flat? A teacher was complaining to me about it."

"I did know that," he said. "It is based off a ridiculous theory."

"Tell me more," she said.

They talked late into the night about anything and everything. They discovered that they were both the only child of their families. Her parents divorced when she was three and her father died in a car accident. Her mother died of liver cancer last year. He reluctantly told her about his parents and her voice was filled with nothing but compassion.

"I want to see you again," she declared when they decided to finally call it a night.

"Me too," he said.

"Take me to the Black Panther movie," she said.

"I'm not sure I can get tickets," he said.

"I have a friend who can," she said.

After setting a date, Reid hung up and realized all the tension built up in his body had dissolved. Julia was special, he was certain.

…

"Hey pretty-boy, I got tickets to see Black Panther. You in?" Morgan said when he called.

"I already have plans to see it with a friend," Reid said.

"Is it someone I know?" he asked.

"I think she's someone I want you guys to get to know at some point," he said.

"So more than a friend?" Morgan asked as his voice filled with joy.

"I hope so," he said feeling nervous and excited at the same time.

…

Reid and Julia were couple a few days later. He forgot how good it felt to fall in love. To share stories with someone. Finding have a shoulder to cry on when things got tense. There was also the intimacy that felt so foreign to him at first, that now felt like he couldn't live without. It felt good to love.

Julia never spelled it out, but he knew where her thoughts were about him quitting the team. She was already thinking about future with him the thought of raising a child while he was constantly traveling didn't appeal to her. Though she continued to praise his work, and called him her hero, he could see doubt her eyes. He thought about how happy Morgan was every time he saw him with his wife and son. It didn't take long for him to make up his mind.

Three months later, he put in his notice. Prentiss wasn't exactly happy but respected his decision. His priorities were different after meeting Julia.

…

Ten months later, the wedding a was full of tears. Julia couldn't hold in how happy he made her feel, which made him choke up. The rest of the wedding party, especially his former team, began to tear up also. Even the minister in the end looked like he was about to break down.

Rossi and Prentiss watched as Reid and Julia had their first dance to "At Last."

"Why do I feel like something is ending?" he said.

"It is ending, Dave," Prentiss said sadly. "The team is being dissolved in two months."

"But its more than that," Rossi said with a shake of his head. "I just don't know what it is."

"Do you trust Julia?"

"I do but, I can't help but think that with all this change, something might go wrong."

"I knew it's been a rough several months, but I wouldn't worry too much about it. Reid is the happiest I've ever seen him, and you'll soon be in California watching that cute grand kid grow up."

"I'll try Emily," he said with a sigh.

"That is all we can do."


	2. Chapter 2

I hope you enjoy this.

I hope you enjoy this.

Chapter Two:

Six Years Later

Tomsk, Siberia:

Officer Andrei Sokolov was used to the cold. He was Russian after all. But Siberia in January was just unbearable. He looked to the members of his team and could see they were trying not to shiver also. Everyone had their limits.

They were assembled in a field not far from the compound they planned to raid.

"Let's find the girls and get out of the cold, okay?" he said.

Everyone nodded in agreement. With weapons ready, they fanned out and marched to the ugly concrete structure up ahead.

They banged down the doors and entered. There was no one there. Every room was empty. Clothes were hanging in racks and bed sheets were strewn about. Sokolov was disturbed to see that all of the beds had chains and collars connected to the head boards. Another agent found a chamber in the basement covered in blood. There was also office with computers missing. Somebody must have tipped them off.

He sighed to himself. This was the raid he was going to make his name off of. Prove to his family that he wasn't a failure. Get a promotion so he and his wife could get out of this wasteland.

As his team prepared to leave, he noticed another door that had been padlocked shut. There were windows on either side that revealed a crude courtyard of sorts. Out of curiosity, he grabbed a pair of bolt cutters and opened the door.

On the other side was a man crumpled in a ball covered in light snow. He was wearing no clothes. It looked like he was dead.

To his surprise though, he found a weak pulse. Having anticipated the need for medics for the girls, there were already a few on the verge of leaving. He called them back and they quickly covered him up and put an oxygen mask on him.

Sokolov wondered why the people in charge of this horrible place didn't just kill him. The man may be his only hope of getting information and show the raid yielded some results.

…

A few hours later, Sokolov was writing up his report at the hospital on his battered old laptop. He was anxious to find out if the man he found had any useful information.

"Officer Sokolov?"

A doctor appeared he and beckoned him to come forward. He followed him into an office.

"Is he awake?" Sokolov asked.

"He's responding to stimuli," he said.

"So, is he awake?" he asked impatiently.

"He is sleeping right now," the doctor said. "The man is lucky to be alive. If you found him even an hour later, he'd have probably been dead."

"What is his prognosis?"

"Officer," he said slowly. "The man has been through a great deal of trauma. We found multiple broken ribs that were on the verge of puncturing major organs. Severely malnourished, he also is missing teeth and his nose looks like it had been broken recently. Several of his fingers had been broken. There is bruising along his scalp as though someone had pulled at his hair. We also found signs of severe sexual assault."

Sokolov swore under his breath. "How is the man still alive?"

He shook his head. "The body is a miraculous thing. What I'm trying to say is, when he wakes up he might be too scared to talk. I spoke with other doctors and they said that when someone is exposed to this much abuse, their minds will simply shut down to block out some of the pain."

Sokolov didn't know what to say. Part of him felt guilty for wanting answers out of the poor man to advance his career. The other part was filled with rage over who would do this to a man.

"I do have something that might help," the doctor said and pulled out his phone. "After we warmed him up, a nursed noticed this on the side of his ankle."

He showed him a picture of a tattoo that made Sokolov's blood run cold. It was a blue circle with a square in the center and five-pointed star the middle. The man's life was in severe danger.

"I need a guard at his door and I need to see the man," he said.

"Dare I ask why?"

"The less you know, the better doctor," he said.

"I'll take you to him then," he said.

They went up a couple floors in silence and entered his room at the end of the hall. The man looked even worse under the warm lights. Bruises of every color covered the exposed parts of his body. Sokolov had seem some truly horrible things during his fifteen years as an officer, and this ranked among the worst.

"Sir," he said gently, not wanting touch him for fear of agitating him. "Sir, I need you to wake up for just a moment."

The man slowly opened his eyes. They were filled with fear.

"I mean you no harm," he said gently. "My name is Officer Andrei Sokolov. I work in what is known as the human trafficking agency. I know you're not ready today, but maybe tomorrow. If you do feel up to talking feel free to call me at any time."

Sokolov pulled out his card and showed it to him. Then he placed it on the bedside table.

"Do you understand me?"

The man nodded ever so slightly.

"I'll let you rest now," he said.

The man instantly closed his eyes and turned away.

Sokolov found the doctor waiting at the door.

"Thank you for not agitating my patient," he said.

"I didn't want to push him today," he said.

"Good."

Sokolov bid the doctor goodbye and prepared to leave for headquarters.

…

Hours later Sokolov entered his apartment with his ears ringing. His boss was beyond furious with the lack of results.

"I take it the raid didn't go well."

He couldn't help but smile at his wife, Raisa.

"It is as though you read my mind," he said.

"It's what happens after ten years of marriage," she said affectionately. "Come, I'm making your favorite meal."

"Hoping for a reason to celebrate?"

"Just enjoy the meal. There will always be other opportunities."

"So how was your day?" he asked as he took a seat in their tiny kitchen.

She shrugged. "The usual."

Sokolov dreamed of getting a straight answer out of his wife one day. She was a data analyst for the government. She had higher security clearance than he did but made considerably less. Some things just weren't fair.

"Anything else on your mind?" she asked as she served up dinner.

"We did find something," he said. "A naked man nearly frozen to death. He was the subject of considerable torture."

Raisa gasped. "Did he say anything?"

"I didn't want to push him today. I'll try tomorrow."

"Andrei," she said seriously. "What aren't you telling me?"

His wife kept hundreds of secrets, yet he couldn't keep anything from her.

"He had a tattoo," he said. "I'm afraid to tell you what it is. All I can say is that the man is in considerable danger and I have an officer guarding him."

"Let's hope the guard does his job then," she said.

"He better. I'd hate to see the man suffer any more harm."

Raisa changed the subject, but his mind remained on the marked man.

…

Sokolov slept fitfully. Images of the compound burned in his mind. The sight of the man covered in bruises and that tattoo haunted him.

His phone ringing woke him around midnight.

"Officer Sokolov," a man with an American accent whispered.

"Who is this?" he asked, fully awake.

"I am the man at the hospital. Someone just tried to kill me!"

Sokolov couldn't believe what he was hearing. It made no sense. His tattoo was a symbol for a government traitor.


	3. Chapter 3

I was planning on updating earlier, but then I fell asleep. I had been up all-night feeling like an ice cube was in my throat, which turned out to be just a form of heartburn. I'm not a sports fan, so who knows how often I'll update this thing. I have a basic idea of where this story is going, which I haven't had in a long time.

Chapter Three:

"Where are you?" Sokolov asked as he began to get dressed.

"In the morgue," he said. "I'll be hiding in a box labeled three."

"Is that safe for you?" he asked.

"Safer than out there," he said.

"I'll come and get you as soon as I can, okay?"

"Promise?" he asked weakly.

"Promise."

Sokolov hung up and saw Raisa was watching him.

"Is the tattooed man in trouble?"

He took a deep breath. "Raisa, the man had a tattoo indicating he was a government traitor, yet he's American."

She gasped. "You know if you help him you're as much a marked man as he is. We're in danger also."

"What am I supposed to do?" he snapped. "Let them kill him?"

"Andrei," she said softly. "We don't stand a chance at escaping whoever wants him dead."

"I refuse to believe that," he said firmly as he began to gather things for the journey. "Raisa, you can flee. If they catch you, you can say you know nothing."

Raisa quickly got up. "Don't be ridiculous. I am your wife no matter what. You need my help if you stand a chance at helping him and surviving."

"I'm in no position to turn down help," he said. "Gather only what you think you can carry, including provisions."

"I always hated this apartment anyway," she said with a sigh.

"Thank you, Raisa."

"Thank me when we're safe."

…

Raisa dropped him off a few blocks away from the hospital. They agreed on a meeting point and if he was not back in twenty minutes, she should flee.

Sokolov sprinted to the hospital. He chose to take the entrance closest to the package loading area. The hospital was an old building with locks he could pick with the tools he brought.

Once he entered the main area, he saw officers patrolling everywhere. They had different badges compared to his men. This was not a good sign. He skirted around the hall and found a set of stairs.

The morgue was only one floor up. It was locked. Sokolov made quick work of the lock and entered the room. He opened drawer three and was nearly hit with a scalpel.

"It is only me," he said, trying assure the panic-stricken man. "It is Officer Sokolov."

"You came," he whispered as tears filled his eyes. "Thank you."

"We need to move quickly," Sokolov said as he opened his pack and pulled out clothes.

"That will be difficult," he said.

The man had trouble with coordination. Sokolov ended up dressing him himself, though the clothes barely hung onto his frame. The poor man clearly didn't like being touched and was shaking in the end.

"We're going to get you out, okay?" he said assuredly.

"If you say so," he said nervously.

He was shuffling so slowly that Sokolov ended up carrying him as a quicker alternative.

They weren't far from an exit when he heard someone shout: "Stop!"

Sokolov had no intention of stopping and sped up. He felt a bullet graze the side of his forehead as a result. This didn't stop him though, and he made it through the exit as he heard more gunshots.

He ran in a zigzagging pattern through the parking lot. He could hear more operatives approaching them. They were trapped.

Then he heard the honking of a horn. Sokolov ran to the direction of the sound. He got into the backseat of the car Raisa was driving.

She didn't say anything as she sped up the car and made several sharp turns. The man moaned slightly in terror. He gently rubbed his back to try to comfort him.

They made it to the car park they had decided on earlier. They then quickly got out of the car. Raisa grabbed their supplies.

"Can he walk?" she asked.

"Barely," he said.

They walked to the outskirts of the city. After gently putting the man down, Sokolov found a padlocked fence and picked it rather than break it. Raisa replaced the lock once they were in.

It was an old abandoned factory. They quickly found a side entrance and broke in. Using a flashlight, they followed the signs to the administration wing. They found an office with a couch, where Sokolov gently deposited the man.

He shivered. "I'm cold."

Sokolov pulled out a blanket and gave it to him. He wrapped himself tightly in it.

"Andrei," Raisa said seriously. "I know you don't want to push the man, but we're risking our lives for him. I would like a few answers."

She deserved as much.

"Sir," he said gently. "What is your name?"

He shook his head. "I used to have a name, but now I am a number. They tortured me into submission. I wish I had a better answer."

"Do you know how long you've been abused?"

"Two years," he said. "The girls secretly kept calendars and told me the dates. It helped me keep a grip on reality."

"The tattoo," Raisa said with a note of impatience. "You're American, yet you have the tattoo of that of a Russian government traitor. Do you know why?"

Tears leaked down his face as he shook his head again. "No. I've had this tattoo as long as I have been in captivity. I'm sorry."

"There is nothing to be sorry for," Sokolov said. "I'm just curious, how did you escape to the morgue? Russians are not known for missing their targets."

"I know," the man said. "Which is why I had secretly pulled out the morphine drip out after the last nurse checked on me. I heard him approaching and struck him in the arm with the needle before he could do anything."

"You have some survival instincts," Sokolov said with a note of admiration.

"Thank you," he said.

"Now go to sleep. Get some rest."

The man turned away and curled up into himself.

Raisa looked frustrated. Sokolov beckoned her into to the hall.

"Andrei, what are we going to do?" she asked angrily. "The man doesn't even know his own name or why he has the biggest target one could acquire on his back. And now we're accessories!"

"He's been through a lot," Sokolov said.

"I can see that!" she said defensively. "My heart goes out to him, but we need to start thinking ahead, because that is what his and now our enemies are doing."

"I am thinking ahead," he said. "You're not going to like it though."

"What?"

"Your sister."

"What!?" she nearly yelled. "Andrei, no!"

"It's your turn to be realistic Raisa," he said. "Albina is our best hope of finding a way out of this country. If we're going to start acting like Russian enemies, then we should make contact with them."

"I don't even know what country she is hiding in these days," she said with disgust.

"But you know how to contact her."

She let out a sigh. "Yes."

"Then tomorrow we find a house to break into and you find a way to communicate with her. She may have allies in the area who can help us."

Raisa looked in the direction of where the man was sleeping.

"Do you think he is really worth it?"

"All life is precious, Raisa. This man has been through so much. He deserves a chance at survival."

"I know," she said. "I just hope we make it out alive too."

"Let's got back to him," he said. "I'll keep the first watch."

"I'll let you," she said and pulled out a blanket and laid on the floor.

Sokolov watched them both and hoped for the best.


	4. Chapter 4

I hope you enjoy this.

Chapter Four:

Raisa kept her head down as she made her way through the wealthier part of Tomsk. Turning away from the camera, she quickly picked the lock of a home. She then raced around the house until she found a computer. It was password protected, but she had brought a tool to crack it. Within minutes she was in and began to type in the code to access the dark web.

She entered the password her sister gave her years ago and promised to never change it. Then she nervously waited. A few minutes later, a video screen popped up and Albina was looking at her.

"Raisa!" she exclaimed. "I was hoping you'd contact me."

"Really?" she said. "Because the last thing I said to you was that you were a disgrace to the family."

She smiled slightly. "You also declared that we were no longer sisters."

"I was hoping you hadn't heard me shout that as you left," she said sheepishly.

"All is forgiven sister. You are in grave danger and you need my help."

"How did you know?"

"You haven't seen the news, have you?" she asked.

Raisa shook her head. "We ditched our electronics at the apartment."

"You and Andrei are wanted as armed and dangerous terrorists."

"Terrorists!" she exclaimed. "That is ridiculous."

"That's what I thought. Tell me the whole story."

"Is this line secure?"

"I took all the precautions necessary."

"Andrei raided a human trafficking compound and found nothing, but a man tortured and nearly frozen to death. He also had the tattoo for that of a government traitor. The man called us late at night and said someone tried to kill him and we managed to get him out alive."

"Wow," she said.

"But the thing is, the man speaks with an American accent!"

"It just gets more interesting. What else is bothering you, aside from your life being in danger?"

She shook her head. "I don't know why they didn't just kill the man. I know I sound harsh, but it just doesn't make sense."

"Do you know anything about the man? Such as his name?"

"Only that he has been tortured for two years. During that time, they beat his name out of his memory."

"There may be one ugly explanation," she said. "They didn't care and were also cocky. They may have just left him to freeze to death because they enjoyed the idea of him suffering some more."

Raisa sighed.

"It's okay to be scared," Albina said. "I'll get you, Andrei, and the man out of the country and hopefully get some answers along the way."

"I don't know to thank you. Especially after being angry at you for so long."

"Think nothing of it. Let us set up a location where you can meet my contact in that area."

"Okay."

…

" _No please, don't" he cried as he was dragged by his hair into the dark chamber._

" _You know the rules. Stealing will not be tolerated!" the man said he pulled out a whip._

" _But I was cold!" he cried._

" _That is no excuse!" the man dragged him forward and hung him on the wall with chains on his wrists. "Twenty lashes."_

" _No! No!" he cried as the man whipped his midsection. Every crack made him scream louder._

 _He started to shake and couldn't stop._

"Wake up!" Sokolov shouted. "Please, wake up!"

He looked into the eyes of the kind officer.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"There is no need to be sorry," he said. "I take it you had a bad dream."

He merely nodded.

"You don't need to talk about it," he said kindly and procured a bottle of water. "You must be hungry too."

"Not really," he said but took the bottle.

"Slowly now," Sokolov said.

He did as instructed. The water did feel good.

"They never allowed me to have clothes," he said suddenly. "I can't remember when they took them away from me, but it was a rule. They rarely even gave me a blanket at night. I was punished severely when I risked taking something just to warm up."

The officer's eyes were filled with pity.

"As long as you are with me, you will have something warm to wear."

"You and your wife are risking your lives for me, yet you don't even know my name. Why?"

"Because it is the right thing to do," he said with a shrug.

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to thank you enough for what you've done."

"Don't worry about it," he said gently. "Just rest. We have a long journey ahead of us."

He tried to say something but Sokolov put a hand up.

"Rest, friend, and worry later."

He closed his eyes and hoped the nightmares wouldn't come back.

…

They met Albina's contact at a mechanic's shop on edge of the city. The man with long graying hair didn't say much and merely told them to get in the car.

After an hour, they were driving on unpaved roads. It was a bumpy ride, and Sokolov held on to the man to prevent further injury. He couldn't keep track of the turns he was making, so he didn't know where they were going. They sat in silence at the moon rose high above them.

The man pulled up to farm house.

"You will stay here the night," he said. "Another contact will be here at dawn to take you to your next location."

"Do you know where that might be?" Raisa asked.

He shook his head as he pulled out some food from the trunk and additional blankets.

"The less I know, the better," he said.

"Thank you," Sokolov said.

The man merely nodded and quickly left.

The barn smelled like animals though there were none to be seen. It was fairly clean. Sokolov nestled the man into what looked like a horse stall where he fell asleep.

Raisa stood by the side.

"Has he said anything more to you?" she asked.

"Only that he wasn't allowed clothes, and was punished when he sought them out," Sokolov said sadly.

Raisa sighed. "My sister suggested they kept him alive because they wanted him to die a slow, painful, death. Whoever did this to him are monsters Andrei."

"I know," he said. "I've never seen anything like it."

"I've been thinking about his American accent," she said. "It is possible he is a dual citizen."

"What's an American doing in Russia?" he asked. "Tensions thaw between the two countries at odd intervals."

"I think it has to be a woman," she said. "He may have fallen in love with the wrong person."

"Are you thinking a sparrow did this?" he said.

A sparrow was a female Russian intelligence officer trained in the art of seduction. They were often sent across the globe to gather information.

Raisa nodded. "Something about him seems so innocent. I could see him falling for one in the right setting."

"That still doesn't explain why he ended up being tortured for two years," he said.

"I know," she said.

"Let us get some rest," he said.

"It is my turn to take the first watch," she said.

"I'll let you," he said and pulled out a blanket.

He slept in the same stall as the man, watching him tremble in his sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

I hope you enjoy this.

Chapter Five:

A woman dressed as a man came the next day. She offered no name and merely instructed them to get in the back of the shipping truck filled with old furniture. Once again, Sokolov held on to the man as they hit bumpy roads. No one said much as they passed around food. The man ate three crackers, which was a new record for him.

It was night by the time they got out at petrol station where they could wash up. Another truck appeared, and they were instructed to get in. This one had plumbing equipment in it. Again, the driver said very little.

"I hope my sister knows she is doing," Raisa said.

"I do too," Sokolov said as cradled the man. He moaned in his sleep.

"He moans in Russian," she noted.

"His grasp on the language is excellent," he said.

She watched him. "Who knows what secrets are hiding in his head."

…

They got out at an equipment factory in the evening. Another man was waiting with a van. They got in the back and spoke little. After another hour of driving, the man pulled into the garage of a large house. The man guided them to a side entrance and knocked twice.

"Password?" A man dressed as a butler asked.

"Goat," he said.

The butler ushered them in and the man disappeared without saying another word.

They were led into a large living area covered in expensive art and told to sit. Sokolov gently rested the man in a plush chair.

"My heavens!" a woman cried.

The woman looked to be in her late fifties with short curly gray hair. She approached the man slowly.

"You are safe here," she said soothingly. "We'll bring doctors in to help you heal."

The man nodded. "Thank you."

She turned to Sokolov and his wife.

"My name is Elena," she said warmly. "My husband sends his apologies for not being here. Marat is away on business and should be back by tomorrow morning."

"We have traveled a great deal these past few days," Sokolov said. "Where are we?"

"You are in Perm," she said. "You'll be staying with us for a few days. It is safer, as the authorities expect you to make a straight run to the border. Can I get you anything to drink? Tea, water, vodka?"

"Tea would be great," Raisa said.

"I would also appreciate some tea," Sokolov said.

Elena turned to the man. "Russian tea is a little strong, can I get you some juice?"

He nodded.

"Roman!" she called out.

The butler instantly appeared.

"Three teas and some juice, please," she said.

The man nodded and disappeared.

Elena took a seat and looked to the man.

"Are you in much pain?"

"It is manageable," he said with a miniscule shrug.

"Are you remembering anything about your life before your captivity?"

He shook his head. "No. I am sorry."

"There is no need to be sorry," she said gently.

The butler appeared with drinks. He passed them around and the man took slow sips of his juice.

Raisa enjoyed the tea. "Thank you."

Sokolov could tell it was an expensive drink. Questions plagued him though.

"Tell me to stop when I have asked too many questions. How did you know the man was in captivity?"

"I am in direct contact with the source of your information. Unlike your drivers, I know why you are here and the grave danger you are in."

"Why are you doing this?" Raisa blurted out.

"The Russian government has not been kind to my or my husband's family," she said. "We have hidden our hatred well with careful investments. To help you is the right thing to do."

They sat and drank their tea in silence.

"Roman will show you to your rooms," she said. "Sleep as long as you like."

The butler appeared and guided them upstairs. The rooms were filled with plush beds. Sokolov helped the man into the bed.

"You're going to okay," he said.

"I hope so," he said. "Leave the light on."

"As you wish," he said.

…

Sokolov and Raisa woke early. They went down stairs to the aromas of breakfast.

Elena was already sitting at the table.

"I was hoping you'd wake earlier than your friend," she said. "So, we can discuss his condition."

"He has been abused horribly," Sokolov said. "His name was tortured out of him."

"I have two doctors coming," she said. "One will evaluate his physical injuries and the other will try to help him mentally."

"His nightmares are constant," Raisa said. "It will be difficult to get through to him."

"But not impossible," she said. "Let my worry about him. You two look like you could use showers and clean clothes."

"I don't know how we'll be able to thank you for your hospitality," Sokolov said.

"I am more than happy to help," she said.

…

Marat greeted them briefly before going upstairs to rest. He was apparently jetlagged but still sounded equally warm as Elena.

To his surprise, the man wanted him the room when the doctor came. Sokolov held his hand the man examined the various injuries to his body. He held on tightly as the dressings were changed.

The doctor spoke to Sokolov privately.

"He is in good condition, all things considered," he said. "They managed to patch him up well. I think he is hiding the amount of pain he is in though and that is putting stress on his body. I brought some medicine that should help."

"Thank you, doctor," he said.

"I feel as though I got the easy job. Treating the mental injuries will be much more difficult."

…

Elena guided him to a different room with plush leather couches. It was lined with tall shelves of books. She instructed him to lay on a couch and took a seat next to him.

"It is time we got some answers out of that head of yours," she said kindly. "A doctor is here to help. I promise that if I see you in any distress I will stop him. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he said. "I want answers too."

"Good," she said and rang a bell.

The doctor appeared. He was younger than the last one with light brown hair.

He knelt beside him. "I am going to ask you to close your eyes and count back from ten," he said.

He did as instructed.

"Picture a happy place from your past," he said. "The sounds, the smells, everything."

 _A pretty blond appeared to be cooking in the kitchen. She was scrambling eggs and man was pouring orange juice for a child seated at the counter. He found himself making coffee._

 _The woman smiled. "You and your coffee," she said. "I bet you can't go a day without it."_

" _I can too," he said. "I even like tea."_

" _But with lots of sugar. You like sugar in everything."_

" _Not on my eggs," he said._

 _She laughed and began to fill the plates with food._

 _He ate a mouthful. "Delicious as always J.J."_

" _Thank you," she said. "One day we're going to teach you how to cook more than eggs Spence."_

" _I can cook," he argued. "I just don't have time."_

" _I've seen all your books," she said. "None of them involve cooking."_

" _I know the basics," he said._

" _That's all a man needs," the man next to J.J. said. "So, are you ready to play some soccer?"_

 _He sighed._

" _You're getting better," J.J. said._

" _You only let in three goals last time," the boy said._

 _His phone rang. "Dr. Reid," he said automatically._

" _Sorry to bother you at breakfast," he said. "But we have a case and Houston PD wants down as soon as possible. Can you relay the message to J.J.?"_

" _Sure thing, Hotch," he said. "We'll be there as soon as we can."_

" _Thanks," he said._

 _J.J. had been watching him. "I guess soccer practice will have to wait."_

" _We need to go," he said._

" _I'll clean up here," the man said. "Just get the guy quickly."_

" _We'll try, Will," J.J. said and kissed him on the cheek._

 _She gave the boy a hug. "Mommy will be back soon."_

" _Okay," he said._

 _J.J. disappeared briefly and returned with a duffle bag. He opened the door and suddenly felt very cold. Snow began to whip around him. He started to shiver slightly and then violently._

"Wake up!" the doctor shouted.

He opened his eyes and looked around. Elena was watching him closely.

"You said a few names," she said. "Were any of them yours?"

"Yes," he said with more confidence than he felt in a long time. "My name is Dr. Spencer Reid."


	6. Chapter 6

I hope you enjoy this.

Chapter Six:

When Elena announced that the man had discovered his name, Raisa jumped at the opportunity to do some research and find out who he was. Elena led her to a room where they kept a computer with a secure line and logged her on.

What she found stunned her. The only recent article about a "Spencer Reid" was an obituary from four years ago in a newspaper in Bordeaux, France. Elena had installed translation software, so she could read it. She couldn't believe iit until she saw the picture. It looked exactly like him without the bruises. He had died in a tragic car accident on his way home from picking up groceries. Raisa discovered he was a teacher at the nearby university. He was survived by a daughter, Lisa, and his wife Julia. There was a private memorial at a church and his ashes would be scattered at an undisclosed location. She was shaking at the end.

…

Sokolov was reading a book when his wife appeared, looking distraught.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Spencer Reid is dead," she said shakily.

"What? Now?" he asked.

"No, according to a newspaper in France. He died four years ago in a car accident."

"Are you sure it is him?"

"There was a picture with the article. It's him, Andrei."

"I can't believe it," he said.

"There's more," she said. "He has a wife and daughter."

"That poor man. This will ruin him."

"What are we going to do?" she asked. "How do we reunite him with a family that thinks he is dead?"

"There are just still so many questions," he said. "Like, what was he doing during the two years after the car accident before his captivity?"

"I don't know," she said. "Something about all this smells rotten."

"I know," he said. "Did you discover anything else about the man before he came to France?"

She shook her head. "It is as though his name was wiped from the web. I need to dig deeper."

Sokolov got up and put his hands on his wife's shoulders.

"You will dig deeper, but not today," he said. "We have to trust that Spencer's head holds all the answers."

"I need to contact my sister," she said. "And give her an update."

"Then do that, we'll worry about the rest later."

Raisa hugged him.

"I am scared, Andrei."

"Me too," he whispered into her ear and held on to her.

…

Elena decided that Spencer was up for a small bland, meal. Once he sat down he looked straight at Raisa.

"What did you find out about me?" he asked.

"Eat first, we'll discuss it later," she said looking at her plate.

He leaned forward and forced her to look him in the eye.

"Tell me now," he said with a harsh edge to his voice.

"Spencer," Sokolov said. "Can't you wait until later?"

"I'm sick of it," he said angrily. "Every one of you is looking at me with more pity your eyes. You know something bad about me."

"Spencer," Marat said. "You need to focus on healing your body."

"How can I heal, when the people I'm surrounded by know more about me than I do?"

"Just be patient," Elena said.

"I have been!" he shouted. "Now tell me what you know!"

"You died in a car accident in France," Raisa said softly.

"What!?"

"Raisa," Sokolov started to say.

"No, he's entitled to know," he said. "It happened four years ago."

"What else?" he asked.

Tears leaked down her face. "You also have a wife and daughter."

Spencer sat there in silence for a moment. Then he rushed out of the room.

Sokolov got up to follow him.

"Is that wise, Andrei?" Raisa said.

"He shouldn't be alone," he said and sprinted after the footsteps.

Sokolov found him in bathroom violently throwing up into a toilet. His whole body was shaking. When he finished, he looked up at Sokolov with tears in his eyes.

"How could forget them?" he cried. "How could I forget my whole family?"

"I don't know," he said softly as he approached him. "But we'll help you remember them."

"I'm so scared," he said. "I don't know what I forgot. I feel as though I am losing my mind."

"We'll help you," Sokolov said as he knelt down beside him. "I promise."

Spencer suddenly grabbed onto him and sobbed into his shoulders. Sokolov held on to him tightly as the man let out all the sorrows in his heart. He eventually fell asleep but continued to whimper. Sokolov continued to hold as he felt tears pouring down from his own eyes. Spencer was beginning mean to more to him that he ever could have imagined.

…

Penelope Garcia stretched her arms out. It was going to be another late night at the NSA. Occupational hazard when it came to work with analysts across several different time zones. She decided to call up one of her Russian contacts.

"Hello," a woman she only knew as Arnica said.

"Hello," Garcia said. "I just wanted to thank you for the data on the terror cell in Southern California."

"Sure," she said.

"What is bothering you Arnica?" Garcia asked.

"It is nothing to concern you with."

"But I do care," she said. "We've been working together for five years. Tell me everything you can."

She sighed. "I'm worried about my sister. I think she's been mixed up in something bad."

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said.

"My straight-laced sister, I never imagined she'd end up on the run."

Garcia didn't know what to say.

"Oh, what the heck," Arnica said. "I know it's a myth that all you Americans know each other. But I'll ask anyway."

"Ask away," Garcia said. "Maybe I can look the person up."

"See what you can find out about a Spencer Reid. He supposedly died in France four years ago but was just rescued by my sister and her husband, making them among the most wanted criminals in Russia."

The information sent Garcia reeling. Her world began to spin.

"Friend?"


	7. Chapter 7

I hope you enjoy this.

Chapter Seven:

Garcia blinked twice.

"Friend?" Arnica said again.

She sat up. "Where is he?" she asked urgently.

"I don't know," she said.

"Are you helping your sister escape?"

"Of course," she said.

"Then where is he?" she asked.

"Friend," she said slowly. "The less I know about the exact location of my sister the better. My enemies can't find her, and everyone only knows a small piece of the plan."

"Do you know if she's safe with Spencer?"

"I spoke with her several hours ago. She sounds as safe as possible given the circumstances."

Garcia felt like she could barely breathe.

"Now it is my turn to ask some questions," Arnica said. "Do you know the man personally?"

"I do," she said. "I worked with him for more than ten years."

"In the NSA?"

"No, FBI. He left just before our team was dissolved."

"What did he do there?"

"A little of everything. I worked at Quantico while he worked with a team tracking down serial killers."

"Another puzzle piece that doesn't quite fit," Arnica said to herself.

"He is also extremely smart," she said. "He has multiple PHDs and went to Caltech."

She paused. "Wait, if your sister is with him, why don't you know all this already?"

"Friend," she said slowly. "Spencer has been in captivity for the last two years. My sister wouldn't get into details, but I think they tortured it out of him. It was only under hypnosis that he recovered his name."

Garcia burst into tears. "No, not him!"

"We are trying to fill in the gaps and you are helping," she said. "Do you know anything about the whereabouts of his wife and daughter?"

"No," she said. "She moved after the car accident and I never could find a forwarding address."

"How unfortunate," she said.

"How can I help?" Garcia asked desperately. "I'll do anything and everything to help."

"Keep your government out of this," she said firmly. "I need time to think and contact my sister."

"Can you relay a message to him please?"

"I don't want your real name," Arnica said.

"Then tell him baby-girl won't rest until he is safe."

"I will," she said. "I'll be in contact again soon."

"Please do."

Arnica hung up and Garcia took a deep breath. She needed to be strong for Boy Wonder. She also had to come up with her own plan.

…

Early in the morning, a bouquet of flowers was delivered along with a coded message. It was one word.

"Call."

Raisa quickly got online with her sister.

"Albina," she said looking into the red eyes of her sister. "Have you slept much?"

"I'll sleep when you're safe," she said. "I have good news."

"What is it?"

"I found someone who knows Spencer and wants to help."

"Who?" she asked.

"I don't know her name, but she works in the NSA. I have been in contact with her for over five years."

"You've been in contact with the NSA?" she asked suspiciously.

"Relax, you know information is currency. Working with the Americans is good business."

"So how does your NSA contact know Spencer?"

"They used to work together in the FBI, hunting serial killers before her team was split up and he went abroad."

Raisa shook her head. "He was FBI? That doesn't help. Does she know where his wife and daughter are?"

Albina shook her head. "She relocated with her daughter after the accident and my friend has been trying to hunt them down."

"I do not like the sound of his wife," she said.

"Spencer must have more answers. There has got to be a way of opening that head of his a little more."

"We'll try," Raisa said. "You get some rest."

"Okay," she said. "One last thing: My friend has a message for him. It will make better sense in English: 'Baby-girl won't rest until he is safe.'"

She stared at her.

Albina laughed. "English is a funny language."

…

Raisa found Spencer reading in the library. To her surprise, he was wearing clothes that fit him.

He looked up and smiled. "Marat's tailor came. I am leaving with several sets of clothing that won't look like they're going to fall of me."

"You look good," she said.

"Raisa, I'm sorry about the way I spoke to you. You have been nothing but helpful and didn't deserve to be spoken to like that."

"It is okay, Spencer," she said. "I can understand your frustration."

"I still feel bad about it though."

"Put it out of your mind. I have good news for you: My sister was in contact with a friend of yours from before you moved to France."

"Her name might not mean anything to me," he said sadly.

"They don't share real names in the cyber-based intelligence community. The woman did have a message for you that I hope makes sense. 'Baby-girl won't rest until he is safe.'"

"Baby-girl?" he said. He mouthed out the world silently and closed his eyes.

"Is that helpful?" she asked.

"I never called her that," he said opening his eyes. "But I think my friend did."

"What friend?"

He shook head. "I don't know. I can just feel his presence somehow. Or I could be losing my mind."

"Don't say things like that," she said. "We're going to learn more today."

"Okay," he said.

…

Spencer laid on the couch and the doctor was back. This time, he came with a set of speakers.

"I am going to play the sounds of a hospital to get your mind in the right place," he said. "You must have sustained some injuries that needed to be tended to."

"I don't like hospitals," he muttered.

"Not many people do," the doctor said. "Now I am going to have you count back from ten and have you picture yourself in a hospital setting. Okay?"

He closed his eyes and did as instructed.

 _There was the beeping of all sorts of monitors. He looked around and saw his left arm was in a cast and so were both legs. Standing at the foot of the bed was Julia._

" _You're awake," she said in Russian with a Russian accent._

" _Julia, why are you speaking in Russian?" he asked in English._

" _You will only speak to me in Russian from now on," she said, almost like an order._

" _Why?" he said in English._

" _Russian!" she ordered._

" _Okay," he said in Russian. "Why are you doing this?"_

" _We have been studying you for a long time Dr. Reid," she said. "Your engineering innovations were particularly impressive."_

" _I don't understand," he said._

" _We want you to help us make better weapons."_

" _What?" he said. "No!"_

" _We thought you might say that," she said. "So, an elaborate plan was enacted."_

 _Something clicked. "You're a spy," he said. "But what of our daughter? Was she part of the plan?"_

" _Yes," she said. "I am almost as intelligent as you Dr. Reid. She will be sent to a good Russian family to be trained as a spy from an early age."_

" _What?" he said as tears filled his eyes. "You can't do this."_

" _I already have," she said._

" _I won't cooperate," he said. "I won't make you any weapons."_

" _We thought you might say that," she said, her voice full of menace. "So a little brainwashing is in order."_

" _No! Please!" he pleaded._

" _You have no choice in the matter. You will be Ivan Petrov soon with no memory of who you used to be."_

" _My team," he said desperately._

" _Is scattered across the country. They think you are dead anyway. There is no one to save you from your fate."_

" _Was Linda Barnes involved in all this?" he asked dully._

 _She laughed harshly. "She's just another American beurocrat. Your team was going to be dissolved in a few years anyway. She just quickened the pace."_

 _He burst into tears. "Did you ever love me?"_

 _She shook her head. "You were also a terrible sexual partner. Goodbye, Ivan."_

" _No!" he moaned._

 _The memory faded and now he was in an office._

" _You've been sabotaging us Ivan," the man said. "Little by little. It took us two years to notice, but it is obvious now that it was you."_

" _No," he said. "I did no such thing."_

" _I don't believe you," he said._

 _The door opened, and another man emerged. He stuck a needle in his neck before he could react._

 _The memory faded, and he woke up naked and restrained to a cold metal table. There was a man with a tattoo pen working on his ankle._

" _What are you doing?"_

" _Making sure, that if you somehow escape, you are a man marked for death."_

" _NO!"_

"Stop!" Elena shouted.

He looked up and around. "I remember everything. My wife is a spy and my daughter is being trained to be one,"


	8. Chapter 8

I hope you enjoy this.

Chapter Eight:

Sokolov was in the room the next time Raisa contacted her sister.

"This makes things infinitely more complicated," Albina said. "Getting you out of the country was a challenge, but not impossible. This, is something much more difficult."

"I don't know what to tell you, Albina," she said. "He won't leave the country without his daughter."

"I don't deal directly with espionage agencies," she said. "The chance of getting caught is too great."

"I wish I could be of some help," Raisa said. "But I don't have the proper tools to access databases."

"I know, you're helping as much as you can. How is Spencer?"

"Quiet," Sokolov said. "He keeps to himself most of the time. He is eating though and performing the exercises as instructed by the doctors."

"He has a purpose now," Albina said. "He needs to be strong for his daughter."

Raisa sighed. "I just don't know how we're going to help him."

"We'll figure something out. I need to contact his American friends." she said. "In the meantime, we need to relocate you tonight. Emphasize with him that it won't be far, and I have no intention of getting you out anytime soon."

"Will I still be able to contact you?"

"Your hosts will be providing you with a powerful computer. Guard it with your life."

"I will," she said.

…

"So, you're saying, Pretty Boy might still be alive?" Morgan said.

"I'm sure of it Morgan," Garcia said anxiously as they sat in his kitchen. "This Russian contact wouldn't lie to me."

"What has he been doing for the last four years?"

She began to sniffle. "He's been in captivity for the last two years. She doesn't know what happened directly after the car accident."

"What do you mean by captivity?"

"He was tortured so badly that he could only recall his name under hypnosis."

"That poor kid," he said.

Garcia's phone beeped. She looked at it and immediately pulled out her laptop.

"It's her," she said as she logged on.

"Is this line secure?" she asked.

"Yes," Garcia said. "I have this computer secured in every way imaginable."

"Are you with anyone right now?"

"Yes," she said. "Derek Morgan, a coworker of Spencer's and mine who has been a civilian for more than eight years."

Arnica sighed. "I take it you told him then."

Morgan moved next to Garcia. "I have no intention of sharing this with anyone else. She is a friend of mine and needed a shoulder to cry on."

"No one else, for now friend, okay?"

"Okay," Garcia said.

"I have news for you and most of it is not good. While your friend has recovered his memories, he also found some disturbing things. His wife is a Russian spy and sent their daughter away to train to be a spy."

"No," Garcia gasped.

"During the two years after his accident, he was brainwashed into developing weapons for Russia using his engineering degree. But something in him still wanted to stop, and it was revealed that he had been sabotaging them. He was sent away to be tortured to death."

"How is Reid dealing with all this?" Morgan asked.

"My sister says he is quiet and keeps to himself. He is taking care of his body though, which is a good thing."

Morgan and Garcia sat in silence, letting all the information sink in.

"I don't know how to help your friend," Arnica said sadly. "I have been smuggling people out of Russia for years. This, is simply beyond my skill set."

"What about Interpol?" Garcia asked suddenly. "We have a friend who worked with Reid who'd be happy to help."

"The people I work with do have a better relationship with Interpol," she said. "What is this person's position?"

"She is currently in a deep cover assignment, but I'm sure she'd be willing to help. I have her contact information."

"She also ran the London office of Interpol briefly," Morgan added.

"So, she has friends in high places. That is useful. But we still don't know much about his wife. There are no pictures of her on any cameras that my operatives can find."

"That isn't a problem," Garcia said excitedly. "I have photos from his wedding on my computer."

"She could have changed her looks since then."

"That's what facial recognition software is for."

"Send her photo to your contact in Interpol. I don't want either of our digital fingerprints on it. Let another outsider deal with it. I trust you to be discreet."

"I will," Garcia said.

"Contact me when you find anything. I don't care what time it is."

"Understood."

Arnica logged off. Garcia looked to Morgan, with tears her eyes.

"I just want him back," she said.

"I do too baby-girl," he said hugging her. "I do too."

…

Prentiss was on a rooftop in France, observing a drug smuggling deal in action. She took photos of every action, every face. So, entranced with her work, she nearly missed the sensation of her phone vibrating.

No one ever bothered her while she was at work. Never. Unless it was an extreme emergency. She looked up at phone briefly. It was a picture of Reid's wedding with a message.

"His wife is a Russian spy who sent their daughter to be trained as a spy while he was brainwashed and tortured for the last four years. Look up her photo at Interpol to see if you can find a match."

Prentiss instantly put away her camera equipment and left the building. She tried her best to hold back her tears.


	9. Chapter 9

I hope you enjoy this.

Chapter Nine:

Prentiss stifled a yawn as she entered the French Interpol offices. She was introduced to Paul Bernard and Victor Petit. They were the top-ranking officials the stationed in France.

Bernard pulled out a printout of the text Garcia sent.

"Do you know who this woman is?" Bernard asked.

"I knew her as my friend's wife," she said.

"But he was reported dead four years ago," Petit said. "Does the source who sent you this information have solid proof he is alive?"

"I trust her with my life," Prentiss said. "I don't think she'd lie about this."

"Why do you think she asked you to run a facial recognition program, when she herself probably has the resources?"

"I don't know," she said. "But if I had to guess, it probably had something to with not wanting her bosses to know she was pursuing this as a side job."

"Can we contact her now?" Bernard asked.

"Sure," she said. "But can I ask what this is about?"

Bernard and Petit looked to each other.

"Have you heard of Victoria Volkov, Marie Legrand, and Amelia Weber?" Petit asked.

"Of course," she said. "They among the most wanted women in Europe for things ranging from drug smuggling, to espionage, to—" Prentiss stopped. "Wait, are they all the same woman I knew as Julia?"

Bernard nodded. "We think there are more, but those are the ones we know of for certain."

"I don't understand," Prentiss said. "She built a life in America before she met Spencer. She carried his child. Not many people who do what she does have that kind of patience."

"We believe she was still doing other work while engaged with Spencer Reid," Petit said. "He also wasn't her last victim in terms of giving birth to a sparrow."

"Do you know her real Russian name?" Prentiss asked.

"We think it might be Vera," Bernard said. "Or that is the name most commonly used when she is working for the Russians."

"I think we've answered enough of your questions," Petit said. "Will you please call your source and put it on speaker phone?"

"Okay," she said and dialed Garcia.

"Emily," Garcia said. "Thank you for getting back to me so quickly."

"Garcia, you're on speaker phone with some officials from Interpol."

"Who is your source on Spencer Reid's survival?" Petit asked.

"A woman I only know as Arnica," Garcia said. "Her sister is danger because she is helping my friend."

"Can you put us in contact with her?" Bernard asked.

"Sir, I can but I'm not sure she'll cooperate without some guarantees for the safety of her family."

"That is not a problem," Petit said. "What we're interested in is retrieving Spencer Reid."

Something hit Prentiss. "You want to use him to trap Vera," she said suddenly.

"No!" Garcia said. "He's been through enough!"

Bernard put his hands on the table. "You ladies truly have no idea how dangerous this woman is! She has killed least dozens of people with her bare hands and responsible for the deaths of over a thousand that we know of. Putting your friend in a small amount of danger while setting a larger trap is a small price to pay."

"It doesn't sound like we have much of choice," Prentiss said.

"We will make your lives infinitely more difficult if you do not cooperate with us," Petit said.

"So, it's the carrot or the stick approach," Prentiss said. "I think we need to cooperate with them Garcia."

"Make sure that Spencer is put in as little danger as possible," Garcia said. "And promise Arnica's family is safe."

"Fine," Bernard said and turned to Prentiss. "I'm guessing you want something too?"

"I want to be Reid's handler," Prentiss said. "He knows and trusts me."

"We'll put you on the first plane to Moscow," Petit said.

Bernard turned to Prentiss' phone.

"Put me in contact with Arnica."

…

They left Elena and Marat's house just after dinner. They were moved into a truck carrying clothing. Spencer carried his own small duffle bag of clothes and hugged it close to him when he sat down.

"Be well and good luck," Elena said before the door was closed.

Once again, they were on the road and didn't know where they were going. Raisa cradled the computer in her arms. Sokolov sat next to Spencer. He wanted to hold the man in his arms like he did during the first days they were on the road. But now, there was something cold and hard in Spencer's eyes. Though hardly any heavier, his presence carried a deeper weight.

"Spencer," Sokolov said. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," he said tersely.

"You are not," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"The woman I loved betrayed me, and I probably won't ever see my daughter again," he flatly. "I am not fine, but I'm trying to hold it together as best I can."

"We'll find your daughter," Sokolov said.

"It's been four years, Andrei!" Spencer said angrily. "If Julia is at least as smart as I think she is, she will have hidden her, in a way that will be impossible to track."

"But you can't give up," he said.

"I will go crazy if I try to find her," he said. "The best I can do is seek vengeance for the loss of her innocence."

"That is a dangerous path, Spencer," Sokolov said.

"It is my choice," he said.

"Spencer—"

"Andrei," Raisa said. "Enough."

"What?"

"Now is not the time to discuss these things," she said. "We still have a long journey ahead of us. We'll decide when we reach the next stop."

"Okay," he said. His wife had a point.

After another half hour, the driver stopped suddenly. They made no sound as they heard him get out of the car. Only muffled voices could be heard. The sound of footsteps and the doors were opened.

A man appeared with a tablet and presented it to Raisa.

"There has been a change of plans," Albina said in a dark silhouette. "Spencer's friend in the NSA negotiated you to continue to use my network to leave the country, but he has to join the Interpol agent continue his journey with him."

"What!?" Sokolov shouted.

"The decision has already been made Andrei," she said.

"What about what Spencer wants?" Sokolov asked.

Spencer turned to the man. "You want me to help you hunt down my wife," he said as a statement.

"Yes," he said.

Spencer got up from his sitting position.

"There is no more need for discussion then," he said.

"Spencer, you're not strong enough!" Sokolov said. "You've been through so much and now you're risking your life to be bait?"

Spencer suddenly reached over and hugged him. "I don't expect you to understand. Thank you for everything."

"I don't want you to go," he said as tears filled his eyes.

"It is the safest thing for you," he said.

He let go before Sokolov was ready and turned to Raisa.

"You'll always be in my thoughts," he said. "Gratitude barely begins to describe what I feel for you."

Raisa suddenly put down the tablet and hugged him.

"I hope you find peace in the future, friend."

"I do too."

He turned to the screen.

"I am guessing you have come believe you are citizen of no country. But by helping people escape harm, no country truly deserves your loyalty to the cause of showing kindness to everyone."

"I think that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," Albina said. "Thank you and good luck."

"Be safe," he said.

He got out of the truck and pulled out the small bag he could barely carry.

"I love you both," he said. "Thank you," he said.

The man took the tablet and lead Spencer to another car. Their driver closed the door. They were on their way.

Sokolov burst into tears. Raisa moved next to him and snuggled to his side.

"What do we do now?" he said.

"I don't know," she said. "But we have each other and that is enough for me."

"I'll never stop thinking about him," he said.

"Neither will I," she said.

Sokolov held on to her tightly. He hoped that Spencer would be safe.

…

Prentiss was exhausted by the time she got to Moscow. She forgot how the time differences affected her. The plane ride wasn't exactly comfortable either. But underneath all her tiredness, there was a desire to see Reid alive.

She had been told that she and Spencer would be sharing a room. He had supposedly been there most of the day. Still, she knocked first to give him a warning. When he didn't answer, she used her key to get in.

At first, she didn't see him. It was a standard hotel room with two beds, a chest of drawers, and a desk. Then she saw a pillow under the desk.

She gently approached him and nearly burst into tears. His face and hands were covered in bruises. While the red dress shirt and slacks looked new, they didn't entirely conceal how much weight he had lost.

"Emily?" he said looking up at her from his book on what looked like Russian literature.

"Reid," she said.

"Is it really you?" he said in Russian.

"Why are you speaking in Russian?" she asked.

He paused. "I, it all I have known for the last four years," he said in English as tears fell down.

She couldn't stop herself. Prentiss pushed the book away and put her arms around him.

"I thought you were dead," she cried. "It broke me Spencer! It didn't seem fair that after all you went through, you'd end up dead. Now it seems so much worse."

He crawled out from under the desk and continued to embrace her.

"I don't know who I am anymore," he said as his voice began to shake. "I don't know who I want to be."

They were on the floor hugging each other.

"Be my friend," she said. "Be my friend who is brave, kind, and smart."

"I'll be anything for you, Emily," he said.

She sighed. "Let's get you to bed."

"Don't leave me," he said. "You're the first thing that has felt real in a long time."

"I won't," she said. Prentiss got up and then helped him stand up. She gently laid him in bed. After pulling off his shoes and kicking off hers, she got into bed beside him. Prentiss latched on to him just as he reached for her. Their bodies were intertwined as they fell asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

I hope you enjoy this.

Chapter Ten:

Prentiss woke up to a start. Reid was no longer in bed with her. Sunlight was just starting to pour in. She got out of bed and looked around. Then she heard the shower being turned on. She let out a sigh of relief.

The door was open slightly. She approached it hesitantly.

"Hey," she said just loudly enough for him to hear her.

"Hey," he said.

"You left the door open by accident."

"No, I did so on purpose," he said. "The space is a little cramped and I don't like the feeling of being trapped."

"I can understand that," she said. "I'll let you get back to it."

"Actually, can you come back in about fifteen minutes? I was given this cream for the scars on my back that I can't quite touch."

"Sure," she said. "I'll be back in fifteen."

Prentiss was actually quite nervous about seeing the rest of Reid's body. She nearly fell apart after just looking at his face. The thought of seeing more made her heart ache.

She scrolled through her messages from Interpol. They'd be at the hotel in two hours to discuss strategy. She hoped they involved putting Spencer in as little danger as possible.

Fifteen minutes later, she gently opened the door more and couldn't contain her gasp. Reid was wearing only a towel around his midsection. The scars on his chest, legs, and arms were on full display, along with how much weight he had lost. It was a painful sight.

"Emily," Reid said, breaking her from her trance.

She burst into tears. "How are you still alive? How!?"

"I don't know," he said. "But I need your help."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I can barely look at you."

"Emily, I'm here. I don't know what I'm doing or how to feel. But I'm alive. Can you try to look past the scars and see me?"

"I'll try," she said.

He handed her a tube of cream.

"I may wince a little as it does sting at first, but it does help. It also dries fast, so you'll have to move quickly."

She took the tube and he turned around. His back mirrored his front. Trying not to think about what objects caused these scars, she applied the cream to her hand and then gently rubbed it in. He did tense up at first, but then relaxed.

"Who gave you this cream?" she asked as she worked.

"A Russian doctor brought in during my last stop at a safe house."

"What were the people who rescued you like?"

"They were kind and brave. They lost everything in order to try to get me to safety. I'll never be able to thank them enough."

She finished rubbing the cream in.

"Done," she said.

He turned around and Prentiss looked into his eyes. They weren't as soft and innocent as they used to be, but there was still a spark in them. Without thinking, she reached forward and kissed him.

"Emily," he said softly.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know what's going on with me. I just want to feel your heart beating."

"Don't be sorry," he said and kissed her back.

He let the towel drop to the floor and guided her back to the bedroom. She pulled off the sweater she was wearing, and he pulled down both her pants and underwear.

"Wait," she said. "Are you healthy enough for this?"

"As long as you don't go rough on me," he said.

"I wouldn't dream of it," she said.

They got on the bed and Prentiss let him kiss every inch of her. She massaged every part of his body. He gently fondled her breasts. She began to moan as he penetrated her. It didn't last long, but they were both gasping for breath at the end.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Never better," he said.

"I should shower and get dressed," she said dully.

"Can I join you?" he asked.

"Are you up for another round?" she asked.

"Let me just breath you in one last time," he said.

"Okay," she said and guided him by the hand into the bathroom.

…

Reid ate a reasonably large breakfast with some orange juice as coffee still wasn't good for his stomach. They didn't speak much and focused on eating. The dangerous part was about to begin.

The first thing Interpol agents did was order Reid to strip down to his boxers. Prentiss looked away to give him some privacy even though she had already seen everything. They wired every part of his body using the best technology available. He was then given a new set of clothes to wear that linked up to the bugs on his body. It was all to guarantee his safety.

The plan was for him to walk to the Kremlin steps and stare into the cameras and then walk back to the hotel. Prentiss and other Interpol agents would be shadowing his every move. He was then given a winter coat that was lined with a bullet-proof vest.

Throughout the process, Reid put on a brave face. He did everything as instructed and promised to be careful. The hard look in his eyes was more pronounced. He wanted to do this. Reid wanted to take down his wife.

…

He didn't bother looking to see if he was being watched. The Interpol agents were too good to easily be seen. The air was cold, but the coat-vest kept him warm. His mind remained firmly on the mission.

Reid found a camera looking out on the Kremlin steps. He climbed a few and stood for a moment. He looked straight in the camera.

"Come find me, bitch," he mouthed in English.

He then walked down the steps proceed to walk back to the hotel as planned. Then he suddenly felt the unmistakable shape of a gun on the small of his back.

"Scream and Emily dies," the Interpol agent turned-traitor said into his ear in Russian.

He followed the man's instructions and hoped Emily was okay.


	11. Chapter 11

I hope you enjoy this and please consider posting a review.

Chapter Eleven:

Reid was led down an alleyway into a room filled with wooden crates. He suddenly felt a needle injected into his neck. The next time he woke up, he was naked in the dark in what appeared to be a crate that was moving. Reid calmed his breathing and hugged his legs for warmth. He had been through worse at this point and he needed to be prepared for what came next.

After what felt like a couple hours, the crate was jostled around, and he tried to cling to the sides to maintain balance. He could hear the sides were cracking and suddenly, the crate was flipped. Reid fell out of it in a heap at the feet of Julia.

She was blond now, wearing a black leather coat, stylish black boots, and skin-tight pants. Briefly turning her attention to someone behind her, she said:

"Leave us," she said in Russian. "I'll take care of this from hear."

The sound of feet moving could be heard and the Julia returned her attention to him. She smiled maliciously.

"Hello, husband," she said.

"I think you declaring me dead invalidates our marriage," he said.

"You've developed a sense of humor," she said.

"I wouldn't call that humor."

She began to circle him.

"Tell me, how did you survive?" she asked.

"The sadists were too busy escaping, to make sure I was dead before they left."

"But you had help," she said. "Tell me who."

"I'll die first," he said forcefully.

She kicked him sharply in the ribs with one of her boots. He fell on his back. She knelt down beside him.

"I will find them and make sure they pay for trying to help you."

"You won't get any answers from me," he said.

She slapped him hard in the face with the back of her hand.

"I'm done playing with you," she said.

Julia pulled him by the right arm to a gray concrete wall where manacles hung. She connected it to one with a click.

"So, tell me," he asked as she did the other arm. "What did I do to deserve all this?"

"I never cared for you," she said. "You were an assignment. I didn't enjoy it, but I was rewarded for my hard work."

"Even though I failed to produce the weapons, you were hoping for?"

She slapped him with her other hand.

"Our daughter will be our greatest weapon. She is being trained with some of the best intelligence officers in the country."

"I don't suppose you know where she is?"

"No," she said. "The trick to keeping a good operation functional, is that everyone only knows a small piece of the plan."

He refused to let her see him cry.

She smiled.

"I am going to make sure you die from starvation in this room with only darkness for company as I know how much you hate it. No one will ever find you here."

The door suddenly smashed open. There was single gunshot. The dust cleared. Julia was dead on the ground with a headshot. Prentiss was holding the gun.

"How'd you find me?" he asked as she was handed a set of bolt cutters and worked on his right arm.

"The dental implant," she said.

"The Interpol traitor?"

"Didn't know about all the bugs placed on you," she said as she undid the left.

He fell into her arms. Prentiss held onto him tightly.

"She didn't know where Lisa was," he said as he began to choke up.

"We'll find her, I promise," she said.

Reid didn't say anything in return. Another officer brought him blankets and pulled out a long coat. They led him out of the basement.

He felt the chill of the cold of Russia in January and wondered about how Lisa was adjusting. So much was unknown. He almost wished he had been left to rot in the basement.

…

One month later:

Paris, France

Reid lit a candle in the church of St. Anthony, the saint of missing children.

"You are always in my heart, dear one," he whispered. "We'll find you and bring you home."

He then left the chamber and met Prentiss at the entrance. They walked in silence out of the church.

"We'll find her," she said. "I don't doubt it."

Reid said nothing.

"Hey," she said, rubbing his shoulder. "We can do this. I know we can."

He grabbed her hand. "Emily, what are we doing?"

"We're taking things one step at a time," she said.

"I am afraid I fell in love with you because, you were the first human touch I felt in a long time."

"I'm not," she said. "Don't overthink things. Try to live in the moment."

"Okay," he said slowly as they walked to the car.

"I have some news for you," she said. "The Russian couple who saved you, they are working for Arnica's network in addition to cooperating with foreign authorities."

"It sounds like they're living more dangerously because of me," he said with a sigh.

"Garcia has also been in contact with her. Arnica is expanding her network. They're helping in the search for your daughter."

Once again, Reid said nothing.

"I'm not giving up on you either," she said forcefully. "I know you're in a dark place and you need time to heal physically and emotionally. I won't let you go through it alone."

"I can't leave Europe, you know," he said dully. "If there is chance she can be found. I want to be as close as possible to her."

"I know," she said. "Which is why Rossi footing the bill for the whole team to visit in a couple months."

"It will be good to see them," he said flatly.

"Hope will never die Spencer, so long as we believe in it."

Reid looked at the bright sun on the cold day let the rays sink in. Deep in his heart, there was fiery passion that promised to burn until his daughter was in his arms again.

Epilogue

One Year Later:

Moscow, Russia

Akilina Bazarov was on the hunt. She was promised a special present and she was not a particularly patient girl. So, when her babysitter was busy cooking, she snuck into her father's office. She bet no one would think she would look in there.

Most of the drawers were locked, but a friend had taught her how to pick them with a hair clip. She picked the one with deepest drawer and found nothing of interest. Akilina noticed the drawer felt a little shallow. She felt around the bottom and found that it could be lifted up. Upon lifting the panel she found paperwork in English.

She didn't know much about the language, but she recognized the terms for weight and height. Something told her that these documents were important. That one day she would be able learn enough English to understand it. For now though, she'd need to let them stay hidden as they were and promise to find them again when the time was right.

Akilina closed the drawer as new questions filled her mind.

THE END

Stay tuned for the sequel: The Sparrow Takes Flight

Author's Note:

I know. Not the happy ending some of you were hoping for. But I promise the next story will be just as exciting with less Reid abuse. I am taking a huge risk with this one and I hope you'll follow me on this journey and keep reviewing.

Thank you for all the support and sticking with me. This one has been an interesting process. Thanks again!


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